|The Maple Grove Gang
Sue, what's that story you tell about the Maple Grove Gang up on the Miramichi?
Ken, I was just enjoying your tale about how they party up on the Miramichi. Yessir! I know what you're talking about. Everette and I, (Sue) are usually on the River at that time and have witnessed much. We have many memories and always try to get to our site early Friday to observe the fun floating by. One incident sticks out in my mind.
Everette and I were all nicely set up enjoying our brew when the Maple Grove Gang (an annual local trip, neighbourhood boys and men who transform into moose-callin River Rats) arrive at their site and acknowledged us. "HI SUE AND EVERETTE, CUMMON OVER FOR A BEER!" "MAYBEE LATER GUYS!" Ev. shouts back.
We go on about our business as more "Grovers" arrive and set up their wet provisions. Much later, "Ev? We should grab a beer, go visit, just for a short, Sugarbear will think we're snotty." We take two beers each, cigars and smokes, pole the boat up river, quietly in the approaching dark, listen to the voices and cipher who's all there.
Just then, "YAHOOOOOO DAMNNNNNN!!!!! NO ##%&&#$ WOMEN!!!" Everette quietly allows the canoe to readjust itself with the current. We poke our campfire upon our homecoming. The Captain is brought out of the duffle bag and we sit chuckeling, listening to Indian Rain Dances, Moose calls, Duck calls, country tunes, poetry, and gibberish.
Even the Miramichi runs out of rapids past Falls Brook. It's a long flat haul, but there are ways to beat the boredom down to Boiestown.
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